


have fists, will travel

by pprfaith



Series: Wishlist 2010 [9]
Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anita being herself, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Limited Point of View, Obsidian Shadows AU, old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 09:28:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5122943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pprfaith/pseuds/pprfaith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anita doesn't like Buffy anymore than she likes Edward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	have fists, will travel

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** , BtVS/ABVH, Buffy/Edward, _Anita had no idea what to make of Buffy, much less what to make of the idea of Buffy and Edward. All she knew was that Donna hated Buffy and from the way Edward looked at her, she might just have a reason._

.

They are sitting squished into a single booth in the Mexican restaurant Edward, excuse her, _Ted_ picked. Anita is sitting at the edge, Peter next to her, then Donna, Becca and the man himself is last, smack across from the Executioner.

Anita wonders, not for the first time, what the hell she’s doing here. In this restaurant, with these people, utterly helpless. In this state, with Edward. She doesn’t really thinks there’s a favor big enough to make her come down here and watch him play house. For Christ’s sake, he’s cuddling a little girl like he loves her. Like he’s her _father_.

Doesn’t anyone else see how wrong this is? 

Edward should be holding guns, not children, should be pulling triggers, not pigtails. But any protest would fall on deaf ears, she can tell. Donna has stars in her eyes whenever she looks at _Ted_ and Becca is clearly as gone as her mother. Peter looks like he might have some inkling as to what his new daddy’s like on the inside, but he’s fourteen. What’s he going to do?

.

Five minutes later the waitress comes and Anita is glad for the distraction. They are about to order their main course when Donna suddenly stiffens, lips pursing in disapproval. Anita, as well as the rest of the table, twists to see what has the woman so unhappy and what they find is a short blonde making her way towards them between the tables.

She stops too close for comfort, smiles prettily at everyone and then says, “I was going stir crazy at the house with the boys. Scoot over.”

And Edward, to Anita’s endless surprise, smiles and simply motions for Donna to move further into the booth. She does, scowling fiercely. Peter grins, Becca looks unsure. Edward looks like he’s suddenly having actual fun. 

Huh. Go figure. The blonde, who looks about Anita’s age and size, only slimmer, slips into the booth, practically sitting in Edward’s lap and not seeming to mind much. She looks at Anita expectantly and Edward rides to the rescue. “Buffy, meet Anita. Anita, meet Buffy. She’s also here to help with the case.”

Now, wondering what the hell the blonde could possibly bring to a serial killer case would be pretty hypocritical of Anita, but damn. The woman looks like she belongs on a beach. She waves weakly, getting a super-bright smile in return that’s as fake as all of _Ted_ ’s.

Maybe she _does_ know what the woman brings to the table. More ruthless killers. Great. Edward gets no points for diversity, Anita decides as she turns back to the waiter after a small smile hello and orders her dinner. The rest follow suit, Buffy tagging her order onto the end without looking at the menu. 

Then she turns to the kids, mostly Peter, because he’s in her line of sight and asks, “How are you?”

He shrugs, faux-casual. “Cool. You?”

She shrugs right back. “Annoyed. Ted’s friends are idiots.”

“You’re Ted’s friend,” Peter points out, with the air of a kid that just scored against an adult. 

But the blonde only looks amused, looking at Edward with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t know. Are we friends, Ted?”

She stresses the name just slightly, but instead of getting a glare like Anita would, she gets a tiny smirk, an upturn of Edward’s lips that Anita has never seen. He looks almost, honestly fond of the newcomer. 

Anita blinks. She has no idea what to make of Buffy, much less of Buffy and Edward. But looking at Donna out of the corner of her eye, seeing the clear disapproval, the _anger_ in the usually soft woman’s eyes, she knows that Donna hates Buffy. And from the way Edward looks at her, she might just have a reason.

Jesus.

.

Dinner comes and it’s as awkward as Blake family dinners used to be. Donna is glaring, Edward is mildly amused, Anita and Buffy are both talking with the kids, Peter is enjoying the hell out of the situation and Becca is oblivious.

And then the entire family freezes again, this time not in recognition or anger, but in abject fear and Anita has time to think that this is quickly getting old before three guys come stomping right up to the table.

What is this? Grand Central Station?

One of the guys is tall and built, another short and scarred. There’s a third one, the one that seems to be the boss, and he glowers at Edward, smirks at Donna.

Becca is almost whimpering and Anita is about to pull her gun under the table when Buffy says, “Go away,” with a sunny smile.

Boss man looks startled, but big and beefy takes over. He leans in, getting right up in her face, asking, “What was that?”

Buffy keeps smiling. “I said, ‘go away’.”

Big guy chortles. “That’s cute,” he says and then throws a glance in Anita’s direction. “Are you two friends with the bleeding heart over there?” He nods at Donna.

Anita opens her mouth to be a smart-ass, but Buffy beats her to it by saying, very simply, “No. We’re his friends.”

She points at Edward with her thumb, then adds, “Work together.”

Boss man looks like he understands the threat and actually shifts a bit, uncomfortable. Apparently, he knows what Edward gets up to in the dark. The thugs don’t react and the big one goes right on with his spiel, threatening Donna, her kids, and then Becca in particular.

Who threatens a six-year-old girl in pigtails?

Anita is about to do something about the asshole when Buffy beats her to it, so fast it’s hard to follow. Her leg shoots out from under the table, taking out the big thug’s right knee. He goes down with a yell like someone cut his legs out from under him and she grabs his long braid, wraps it once around her fist and uses it to slam his face into the table with frightening force before jerking back, forcing his head down until his throat is bared.

He tries to smack at her, hit her in the arm to make her let go, but she retaliates each time by jerking his hair harder until his choices are to stop of fall over. He stops, cursing vilely through the blood pouring from his nose. Buffy broke it with a single move.

Anita, who expected violence, recovers first and turns away from the scene to look at the other two bad guys. They look a bit pale around the edges, a bit surprised by the casual ease with which the tiny blonde is holding a man twice her weight under control like a disobedient puppy. They look like men that are too smart to attack in defense of their dumb comrade. Good.

Buffy speaks up first. “Are you done?” she asks into the dead silence that has fallen over the restaurant.

The thug at her feet tries to growl through the blood clogging his airways. It comes out as a whimper.

“I said,” she snaps, pulling his hair farther back, “Are you done?”

He grunts.

She smiles. “Good. I don’t like it when grown men threaten little girls. Now get out of here.” She shoves at him and he falls at the feet of his buddies, utterly humiliated.

They pick him up and drag him out against his protests and curses, trying to get away before the police get there and not managing. Uniformed officers flood the still silent room and Anita looks at Buffy.

The woman looks back at her with eyes that wouldn’t look out of place in Edward’s face. Cold. Dead. _Deadly_.

Donna shouldn’t hate Buffy.

She should fear her.

.


End file.
